y  The  Chimes  Rang: 
A  Play  in  One  Act:  by 
Elizabeth  Apthorp  Mc- 
Fadden:  Adapted  from 
the  story  of  the  same 
name :  by  Raymond  Mc 
Donald  Alden 


Samuel  French :  Publisher 

28-30  West  Thirty-eighth  Street :  New  York 


LONDON 


Samuel  French,  Ltd. 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET,  STRAND 
PRICE  THIRTY -FIVE  CENTS 


UNIVERSITY  FARM 


Why  The  Chimes  Rang: 
A  Play  in  One  Act:  by 
Elizabeth  Apthorp  Mc- 
Fadden:  Adapted  from 
the  story  of  the  same 
name :  by  Raymond  Mc 
Donald  Alden 


Samuel  French :  Publisher 

28-30  West  Thirty-eighth  Street :  New  York 


LONDON 


Samuel  French,  Ltd. 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET.  STRAND 


COPYRIGHT,  1915, 
BY  £.  A. 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 


This  play  is  fully  protected  by  copyright. 

Permission  to  act,  read  publicly  or  make  any  use 
of  it  must  be  obtained  of  Samuel  French,  28  Wesfc 
38th  Street,  New  York.  It  may  be  presented  by 
amateurs  upon  payment  of  the  following  royalties. 

1.  Where  no  admission  is  charged,  five  dollars 
for  each  performance  payable  three  days  before 
the  date  when  the  play  is  given. 

2.  Where  admission  is  charged,  ten  dollars  for 
each  performance  payable  three  days  before  the 
date  when  the  play  is  given. 

Professional  rates  quoted  on  application. 

3.  Whenever  this  play  is  to  be  produced  the  fol 
lowing  note  must  appear  on  all  programs,  printing 
and  advertising  for  the  play. 

This  play  is  a  dramatization  of  the  story  by 
Raymond  MacDonald  Alden  entitled  "  WHY  THE 
CHIMES  RANG,"  published  by  The  Bobbs- 
Merrill  Company. 

This  version  of  Raymond  MacDonald  Alden's 
story  is  published  with  permission  of  the  Bobbs- 
Merrill  Company  of  Indianapolis,  Indiana,  the 
publishers  of  Professor  Alden's  story  and  the 
holders  of  the  copyright. 


PREFACE. 

This  little  play  is  prentice  work  done  in  Professor 
George  P.  Baker's  class,  English  47  at  Radcliffe 
College  in  the  fall  of  1908.  Several  years  later  it 
was  staged  by  Professor  Baker  in  the  "  47  Work 
shop,"  his  laboratory  for  trying  out  plays  written 
in  the  Harvard  and  Radcliffe  courses  in  dramatic 
technique. 

I  am  glad  to  acknowledge  here  my  indebtedness 
to  the  "  Shop  "  and  its  workers  for  this  chance  of 
seeing  the  play  in  action.  Of  the  various  advantages 
which  a  "  Workshop  "  performance  secures  to  the 
author  none  is  more  helpful  than  the  mass  of 
written  criticism  handed  in  by  the  audience,  and 
representing  some  two  or  three  hundred  frank  and 
widely  varying  views  of  the  work  in  question.  I 
am  especially»grateful-for  this  constructive  criticism, 
much  of  which  has  been  of  real  service  in  the  sub 
sequent  rewriting  of  the  piece. 

"  Why  the  Chimes  Rang"  was  again  tried  out 
the  next  year  in  seven  performances  by  the 
"  Workshop "  company  in  various  Boston  settle 
ments.  Other  groups  of  amateurs  have  given  it 
in  Arlington,  Massachusetts,  Los  Angeles,  California 
and  in  Honolulu.  These  performances  have  proved 
that  while  its  setting  may  seem  to  call  for  the 
equipment  of  a  theatre,  the  play  can  be  acceptably 
given  in  any  hall  or  Sunday  school  room. 

Suggestions  for  the  simplest  possible  staging  have 
been  added  to  the  present  publication  in  an  appendix 
which  contains  data  on  the  scenery,  music,  lighting, 
costumes  and  properties  for  the  piece. 

ELIZABETH  APTHORP  MCFADDEN. 


3 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 


CHARACTERS. 

HOLGER A  peasant  boy 

STEEN His  younger  brother 

BERTEL Their  uncle 

AN  OLD  WOMAN 
LORDS,  LADIES,  etc. — 

TIME: — Dusk  of  a  day  of  long  ago. 


SCENE: — The  interior  of  a  wood-chopper's  hut  on 
the  edge  of  a  forest. 


Why  the  Chimes  Rang. 


The  scene  is  laid  in  a  peasant's  hut  on  the  edge 
of  a  forest  near  a  cathedral  town.  It  is  a  dark  low- 
raftered  room  lit  only  by  the  glowing  wood  fire  in 
the  great  fireplace  in  the  wall  to  the  right,  and  by  a 
faint  moonlight  that  steals  in  through  the  little  win 
dow  high  in  the  left  wall.  This  window  commands 
a  view  of  the  cathedral  and  of  the  road  leading 
down  into  the  town.  The  only  entrance  into  the 
hut  is  the  front  door  near  the  window. 

The  furnishings  are  few:  two  substantial  stools, 
one  near  the  window,  the  other  before  the  fire,  logs 
piled  up  near  the  hearth,  and  on  the  chimney  shelf 
above  a  few  dishes,  three  little  bowls,  three  spoons 
and  a  great  iron  porridge  pot.  A  wooden  peg  to  the 
right  of  the  chimney  holds  S  teen's  cap  and  cape, 
one  to  the  left  an  old  shawl.  Near  the  door  Holger's 
cap  and  cape  hang  from  a  third  peg. 

Despite  its  poverty  the  room  is  full  of  beauti 
ful  coloring  as  it  lies  half  hidden  in  deep  shadow 
save  where  the  light  of  the  fire  falls  on  the  brown 
of  the  wood  and  the  warmer  shades  of  the  chil 
dren's  garments,  illuminates  their  faces  and  gleams 
on  their  bright  hair. 

When  the  curtain  is  raised  Steen  is  sitting  dis 
consolately  on  the  stool  near  the  fire.  He  is  a  hand 
some  sturdy  little  lad  of  nine  or  ten,  dressed  in 
rough  but  warm  garments  of  a  dark  red.  Holger 
a  slender  boy  some  four  years  older,  bends  over 
Steen  patting  him  comfortingly  on  the  shoulder. 

There  is  petulance  and  revolt  in  the  expression  of 


<5  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

the  younger  boy  but  Holger's  face  is  full  of  a 
blended  character  and  spirituality  that  makes  him 
beautiful.  He  is  clad  like  his  brother  in  comfortable 
but  worn  jerkin  and  hose  of  a  dark  leaf  green.  His 
manner  to  the  little  boy  is  full  of  affection,  though 
occasionally  he  is  superior  after  the  manner  of  big 
brothers.  Throughout  the  play,  two  moods  alternate 
in  Holger,  a  certain  grave,  half-mystical  dreaminess 
and  bubbling  through  it,  the  high  spirits  of  his 
natural  boyish  self. 

HOLGER.  Take  heart,  Steen,  perhaps  we  can  go 
next  year. 

STEEN.  Next  year!  Next  year  I'll  be  so  old  I 
won't  want  to  go. 

HOLGER.  Oh,  quite  old  folks  go  to  the  Christmas 
service.  Come,  let's  watch  the  people  going  down 
to  town. 

STEEN.    No. 

HOLGER.  The  road'll  be  full,  grand  folk!  (He 
crosses  to  the  window)  Come  watch,  Steen. 

STEEN.     No ! 

HOLGER.  (Looking  out)  Why  the  road's  all 
empty  again! 

STEEN.  (In  a  wailing  tone)  Everybody's 
gone! 

HOLGER.  (Trying  to  be  brave)  They're  lighting 
the  cathedral ! 

STEEN.    I  don't  care ! 

HOLGER.  Oh,  Steen,  come  see, — like  the  stars 
coming  out! 

STEEN.  I  won't  see!  Mother  said  way  last 
summer  that  we  could  go  to-night,  and  now — 
(His  voice  breaks  in  a  sob) 

HOLGER.  She  meant  it!  She  didn't  know  that 
the  grandmother  would  be  ill,  and  she  and  father'ud 
have  to  go  to  her.  Be  fair,  Steen ! 

STEEN.  They  might  let  us  go  alone.  "  Too 
little!"  Bah! 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  7 

HOLGER.  (In  a  low  almost  frightened  tone) 
Steen,  come  here ! 

(The   tone,   rather   than   the  words,   take   STEEN 
quickly  to  HOLGER'S  side.) 

STEEN.     What? 

HOLGER.  (Pointing  out  the  window)  Look,  by 
the  dead  pine  yonder,  an  old  woman  facing  us, 
kneeling  in  the  snow,  see  ?  praying ! 

STEEN.     (In  an  azved  tone)     She's  looking  at  us! 

HOLGER.    She's  raising  her  hand  to  us ! 

STEEN.     She's  beckoning! 

Hofc6e^-^OTs1ie*s  liiakihg  the  Sign  of  the  Gross. 

(Both  boys  drop  their  heads  devoutly.) 

STEEN.    Who  is  she,  Holger? 

HOLGER.    I  don't  know. 

STEEN.  (Drawing  back  from  the  zvindow  and 
crossing  the  room  to  the  fire)  Oh,  Holger,  I'm 
afraid ! 

HOLGER.  No,  no!  Look,  she  has  turned  away, 
— she's  deeper  in  the  shadow, — why,  she's  gone! 
(Following  STEEN  with  all  his  bright  courage 
bubbling  high  again,  and  speaks  in  a  bantering  tone) 
Just  some  old  granny  going  down  to  town,  and  thou 
afraid ! 

STEEN.     (Recovering  also)    And  thou  afraid! 

HOLGER.    I  was  not ! 

STEEN.     (Derisively)     Oh-h-h-h! 

HOLGER.  Well,  I  was  just  a  little  bit  afraid— 
lest  she  might  frighten  thee.  (Steps  are  heard  out 
side  the  house.  Both  boys  start  and  look  frightened 
again)  Hush, — steps — coming  here! 

STEEN.  (Backing  from  the  door)  The  old 
woman ! 

HOLGET?.  (Crosses  the  room,  looks  cautiously  out 
of  the  window,  then  cries  joyously)  No, — Uncle 
Bertel! 


8  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

BERTEL.  (Off  stage)  Hullo,  there, — open, 
Holger! 

(STEEN  and  HOLGER  make  a  dash  for  the  door, 
fling  it  open  and  BERTEL  enters.  He  is  a  jolly 
robust  peasant  uncle  of  early  middle  life,  clad 
in  rough  gray  jerkin  and  hose,  with  a  dark  gray 
cloak  wrapped  about  him.  He  so  radiates  cheer 
that  the  room  seems  warmer  for  his  presence  in 
it.  Nothing  to  be  afraid  of  about  him,  the 
children  adore  him.) 

STEEN.  (Clinging  to  him,  happily)  Oh,  Uncle, 
Uncle,  Uncle  Bertel! 

HOLGER.  (Seizing  BERTEL  on  his  other  side) 
Uncle  Bertel,  welcome ! 

BERTEL.  (Tousling  their  hair  and  shaking  him- 
self  loose  in  pretended  dismay)  Help,  help! — 
Robbers! — I'm  beset! — Gently,  youngsters! — (He 
goes  over  to  the  fire  and  stands  warming  himself) 
Brrrrr!  It's  cold  in  the  forest  to-night !— Well, 
(He  faces  them  genially)  why  am  I  come? — Tell 
me  that ! 

STEEN.  (Exultantly)  To  take  us  to  the  Christ 
mas  Service? 

HOLGER.  Uncle !  How  didst  thou  know  we  were 
not  going? 

BERTEL.    I  met  a  fox — who  said 

HOLGER.  Oh-h! — Thou  hast  seen  mother  and 
father ! 

BERTEL.  (Draws  the  stool  nearer  the  fire  and  sits, 
the  children  promptly  drop  on  the  floor  beside  him) 
J5y  our  Lady,  yes! — and  walking  so  fast  they  had 
only  time  to  throw  me  a  word  from  the  sides  of 
their  mouths.  "  Go  up,"  cried  Mother, — "  I  wist 
my  boys  are  deep  in  tears !  " — and  I,  not  wishing  to 
see  you  drown  in  so  much  water 

HOLGER.    (Patting  his  arm)    Dear  Uncle  Bertel! 

STEEN.  (Rising  on  his  knees)  Come,  let's  go 
quick ! 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  9 

BERTEL.  Patience,  patience,  young  colt,  plenty  of 
time,  mother  said  something  else. 

STEEN.    What? 

BERTEL.  (His  eye  on  the  shelf  above  the  fire) 
That  I  should  find  some  warm  porridge  for  my 
pains. 

HOLGER.  (Springing  to  his  feet)  Why,  of 
course,  there  is  porridge!  (He  goes  to  the  shelf) 
Nice  and  warm  it  is !  All  ready  for  supper.  (He 
hands  the  first  bowl  to  BERTEL,  STEEN  capers  nimbly 
across  the  intervening  space  and  seats  himself  on 
the  side  of  the  hearth,  facing  BERTEL,  his  back  to 
the  audience) 

STEEN.  Supper!  How  could  we  forget  supper? 
• — Give  me  a  big  bowlful,  Holger. 

HOLGER.  (Handing  STEEN  his  porridge)  There 
isn't  a  big  bowlful  here. 

STEEN.  (Taking  the  bowl  and  hugging  it)  Nice 
kind  good  supper,  umh!  (Begins  to  eat  eagerly) 

HOLGER.  (Suddenly  looking  toward  the  door) 
Listen ! 

BERTEL.    To  what? 

HOLGER.  (Awed,  hesitant)  Someone — sobbing 
— at  the  door !  (He  goes  to  it,  the  others  watching 
him  startled,  he  opens  the  door,  finds  nothing,  closes 
it  and  comes  back )  Nothing  there ! 

BERTEL.  The  wind! — Thy  old  tricks,  Holger,—* 
always  dreaming  some  strange  thing. 

HOLGER.  (Recalled  by  BERTEL'S  words  to  some 
thing  else)  Didst  thou  pass  an  old  woman  on  the 
road — near  here? 

BERTEL.  Not  a  soul  nearer  than  the  town  gate. 
( HOLGER  stands  thinking',  absorbed)  Come,  boy, 
eat, — eat!  See  how  Steen  eats! 

HOLGER.  (Breaks  through  his  abstraction  and 
reverts  to  his  bright  self)  Oh,  Uncle  Bertel,— I'm 
too  glad  to  eat ! 

BERTEL.  (More  seriously)  Thou  art  right,  lad, 
—fasting  were  better  than  feasting  this  day  in 


10  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

Tralsund  ! — they  say, — do  you  know  what  they  say 
in  the  town? 

HOLGER.    What? 

BERTEL.  They  say — that  to-night  in  the  great 
church— when  the  offerings  are  laid  upon  the  altar 
for  the  Christ  child, — something  will  happen! 

(STEEN  has  finished  his  porridge,  puts  the  bowl  on 
the  shelf  near  him,  seizes  his  cloak  and  cap  from 
the  peg  near  the  hearth  and  stands  eager  to  be 
gone.) 

HOLGER.    What? 

BERTEL.  Who  can  say?  All  day  the  folk  have 
been  pouring  into  the  town  as  never  before.  The 
market  place  is  crowded,  every  inn  is  full.  No 
church  but  the  cathedral  could  hold  such  a  multitude. 
Never  have  I  seen  such  excitement,  such  fervor! 

HOLGER.    There  will  be  many  gifts ! 

BERTEL.  — the  rich  are  bringing  their  treasure, 
gold  and  jewels,  king's  ransoms,  aye  and  the  King 
comes.  (BERTEL  finishes  his  porridge  and  hands  the 
bowl  to  STEEN) 

HOLGER.    The  King? 

BERTEL.    The  King  Himself! 

STEEN.  Oh,  and  shall  we  see  Him,  Uncle,  and  the 
fine  gifts  and  everything? 

BERTEL.  Why  not  ? — Even  the  poorest  may  go  up 
and  give — what  hast  thou  to  offer  ? 

STEEN.  (Abashed)  I?— Nothing!  (Puts  his 
porridge  bowl  and  BERTEL'S  on  the  shelf  then  goes 
restlessly  to  the  door) 

HOLGER.  (Breaking  in  with  eagerness)  Oh,  I 
have,  see,  Uncle?  (Feels  in  his  pocket  and  brings 
out  two  pennies)  See ! — Last  week  I  was  gathering 
sticks  in  the  forest  and  a  fine  gentleman  rode  past 
and  asked  the  way  of  me.  I  showed  him  the  path 
and  he  gave  me  these!  (Holds  up  the  pennies) 

BERTEL.     (Rising  and  going  to  HOLGER  who  is  in 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  II 

the  middle  of  the  room)  Faith,  real  money  in  the 
family.  (Stoops  and  looks  at  the  pennies  as  though 
they  were  a  rare  sight) 

STEEN.  Oh,  I  thought  we  were  going  to  buy 
cakes  with  those,  Holger. 

HOLGER.  But  it's  better  to  give  it  to  the  Christ 
Child.  You  see  He  is  a  little  child,  smaller  than 
even  you, — and  I  think  He  would  like  a  little  gift, — 
a  little  bright  gift  that  would  buy  cakes  for  Him. 
( HOLGER  goes  toward  the  window  and  stands  look 
ing  dreamily  out  at  the  lights  of  the  church) 

BERTEL.  Aye,  to-night  we  must  think  of  Him, — 
there  in  His  Holy  Church. 

HOLGER.  It  is  a  holy  place,  the  church! — I  feel 
it  every  time  I  go, — it's  like  God's  forest, — the 
pillars  like  old  oaks  and  the  great  windows  all  colors 
like  sunsets  through  the  trees. 

BERTEL.    'Tis  like  the  forest. 

HOLGER.  And  when  the  organ  plays  that's  like 
a  storm  gathering  in  the  mountains. 

BERTEL.  A  storm  ?— Aye ! — "  The  Lord  hath  His 
way  in  the  whirlwind  and  in  the  storm  and  the 
clouds  are  the  dust  of  His  feet !  "—Why  should  He 
not  do  a  wonder  as  of  old?  Perhaps  the  great 
miracle  will  come  again ! 

HOLGER.  Oh,  which,  Uncle  ? — There  are  so  many 
in  the  Bible ! 

STEEN.  Yes,  which? — Would  there  be  a  whale 
now  to  swallow  a  priest? 

BERTEL.  Thou  goosey!  This  was  no  Bible 
miracle, — it  happened  there,  there,  where  we  see  the 
lights, — hundreds  of  years  ago.  (BERTEL  has  fol 
lowed  HOLGER  to  the  window  and  STEEN  joins  them. 
As  he  speaks  BERTEL  slips  his  arms  affectionately 
round  both  children  and  the  three  stand  looking  out. 
At  this  moment  something  stirs  in  the  dim  shadows 
that  shroud  the  corner  up  above  the  fire-place. 
Suddenly  out  of  the  dark  the  OLD  WOMAN  emerges. 
A  tall  figure,  if  she  were  not  so  bent,  wrapped  in  a 


12  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

black  cloak.  There  is  nothing  grotesque  or  sinister 
in  her  appearance,  she  might  have  stood  for  a  statue 
of  old  age,  impressive  in  its  pathos.  As  she  sits  on 
the  stool  near  the  fire  she  throws  back  the  cloak  dis 
closing  the  plain  straight  dress  of  gray  beneath. 
The  light  of  the  fire  reveals  her  crouched,  swaying 
back  and  forth  praying  silently,  her  face  still  shaded 
by  the  heavy  hood  of  her  cloak.  The  others  gazing 
intently  out  at  the  church  do  not  see  her.  BERTEL 
continues  speaking}  Surely  thou  hast  heard  of  the 
Miracle  of  the  Chimes  ? 

HOLGER.  I've  heard  folks  speak  of  it, — but  I 
never  knew  just  what  happened. 

STEEN.    Oh,  tell  us,  Uncle  Bertel. 

BERTEL.  Aye,  listen  then! — You  see  the  great 
tower  there? — (Both  children  nod  emphatically)  It 
goes  so  high  into  the  clouds  that  no  one  can  see  it's 
top! — No  one  even  knows  how  high  it  is  for  the 
men  who  built  it  have  been  dead  for  hundreds  of 
years. 

STEEN.    But  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  chimes  ? 

HOLGER.    Hush,  Steen,  let  uncle  speak ! 

BERTEL.  The  chimes  are  up  at  the  top  of  the 
tower. — and  they  are  holy  bells, — miraculous  bells, 
placed  there  by  sainted  hands, — and  when  they  rang 
'twas  said  that  angels'  voices  echoed  through  them. 

STEEN.    Why  doesn't  someone  ring  them  now? 

BERTEL.  Ah,  that  is  not  so  easy ! — They  are  said 
to  ring  on  Christmas  Eve  when  the  gifts  are  laid  on 
the  altar  for  the  Christ-child, — but  not  every  offer 
ing  will  ring  them,  it  must  be  a  perfect  gift.  And 
for  all  these  years  not  one  thing  has  been  laid  upon 
the  altar  good  enough  to  make  the  chimes  ring  out. 

HOLGER.  Oh,  that's  what  the  priest  was  talking 
about  to  mother,  then.  He  said  it  mustn't  be  just  a 
fine  gift  for  show  but  something  full  of  love  for  the 
Christ-child. 

STEEN.   Oh,  I  want  to  hear  them ! 

BERTEL.    We  shall! — The  very  air  is  full  of  holy 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  13 

mystery !    The  Spirit  of  Christ  will  be  there  in  the 
church  to-night!     (To  HOLGER)     Thy  cap,  boy! 

(HOLGER  stands  wrapt  in  thought  gazing  out  at  the 
cathedral.) 

STEEN.  (Taking  the  cap  and  cloak  from  the  peg 
near  the  door  and  bringing  them  down  and  piling 
them  into  HOLGER'S  arms)  Here  they  are,  old 
dreamer! — (He  turns  back  up  toward  the  door  in 
such  a  way  that  he  does  not  see  the  silent  figure  in 
the  corner)  And  hurry! 

'(BERTEL  too  turns  toward  his  left  hand  and  does  not 
see  the  woman.) 

HOLGER.  (In  a  tone  of  bright  happiness,  roused 
from  his  dreaming)  I'm  coming! — Nothing  can 
happen  to  stop  us  now,  can  it?  (As  he  says  this  he 
wheels  to  his  right  in  a  way  that  brings  the  chimney 
corner  in  his  line  of  vision.  He  starts,  bends  for 
ward  staring  as  the  others  open  the  door,  then  he 
speaks  in  a  tone  that  is  little  more  than  a  gasp) 
Steen ! 

(The  others  stop  and  stare  at  him,  then  in  the  direc 
tion  of  his  look.) 

STEEN.    Oh !— The  Old  Woman ! 
BERTEL.     (Looking  to  STEEN)     When  did  she 
come  in? 

STEEN.    I  didn't  see  her! 

( HOLGER  crosses  timidly  towards  her.  As  he  ap 
proaches  the  OLD  WOMAN  turns  her  eyes  on 
him  and  holds  out  her  hands  in  pitiful  appeal.) 

HOLGER.    What  dost  thou  want,  dame  ? 
OLD  WOMAN.     (In  a  voice  that  is  harsh  and 
broken)    Refuge — from  the  storm  of  the  world ! 


I4  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

HOLGER.    Surely  thou  shalt  rest  here. 

OLD  WOMAN.  (Half  rises  stiffly  as  HOLGER 
draws  nearer)  Oh,  son,  I  am  so  weary  and  so 
heavy  laden.  (She  sways  and  HOLGER  runs  for- 
ward,  catching  her  in  his  arms  and  supporting  her  on 
the  stool.  The  others  stand  watching.  She  sits 
huddled  forward  in  a  position  that  suggests  col 
lapse) 

HOLGER.  She's  faint!  (He  touches  her  hands) 
She's  so  cold!  Quick,  Steen,  build  up  the  fire! 
(STEEN  goes  to  the  fire  and  puts  on  another  log,  the 
flames  blase  up.  HOLGER  busies  himself  chafing  the 
woman's  hands  and  covering  her  with  the  old  cloak 
that  has  dropped  back  from  her  shoulders)  She 
must  have  lost  her  way  in  the  forest. 

BERTEL.  (Stands  watching  the  woman  rather 
suspiciously,  now  comes  to  HOLGER  taps  him  on  the 
arm  and  draws  him  a  little  apart,  speaking  in  an 
undertone)  We  have  scant  time  to  lose  with  that 
old  beggar. 

HOLGER.    What'll  I  do  with  her  ? 

BERTEL.    Leave  her  and  come  on. 

STEEN.  And  come — before  it  is  to-morrow! 
(He  is  back  by  the  door,  his  hand  on  the  latch) 

HOLGER.  ( Turns  and  looks  at  the  old  woman  and 
then  back  to  BERTEL)  Oh,  I — ought  we  to  go  and 
leave  her  ? 

STEEN.     Not  go? 

BERTEL.  Go,  of  course  we'll  go,  she'll  warm  her 
self  and  march  along. 

HOLGER.  But  she  is  ill.  (Turns  to  STEEN  with 
new  decision  in  his  manner)  Thou  shalt  go  with 
Uncle  but  I — must  stay  with  her. 

BERTEL.    Nonsense,  Holger ! 

HOLGER.  No,  it  isn't ! — If  we  should  all  go  now, 
the  fire  would  go  out  and  the  light, — and  she  would 
wake  up  in  the  cold  darkness  and  not  know  where  to 
turn  for  help. 

BERTEL.      Na,   by    Saint    Christopher! — Miss    a 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  15 

miracle  to  keep  company  with  a  beggar ! — Who  held 
her  hand  before  thou  earnest  along?  Send  her  pack 
ing  and  make  haste,  Holger. 

STEEN.     Oh,  do,  Holger! 

HOLGER.  If  there  were  some  place  near  that  we 
could  take  her. 

BERTEL.  There  isn't  a  place  on  the  road, — they  Ve 
all  gone  to  town  long  ago.  Bid  her  fare  there  also ! 

HOLGER.  (Looks  at  the  OLD  WOMAN,  then  at 
BERTEL,  then  back  to  the  OLD  WOMAN,  then  he 
shakes  his  head)  Mother  wouldn't  treat  her  so, — 
she'd  be  good  to  her. 

BERTEL.  Think  of  what  you'll  miss !  (An  ex 
pression  of  anguish  passes  over  HOLGER'S  face,  but 
he  shakes  his  head  and  turns  tward  the  old  woman) 
Well,  this  is  idle  talk,  thou  and  I  will  go,  Steen. 

STEEN.    Oh,  come, — let's  go! 

BERTEL.  (To  STEEN,  but  for  HOLGER'S  benefit) 
Thou  and  I  will  see  the  King,  perchance — The 
Christ !  Thou  art  stubborn,  Holger,  I  who  am  older 
tell  thee  what  to  do!  (HOLGER  shakes  his  head 
again)  Come,  Steen !  (He  opens  the  door  and  goes 
out) 

STEEN.     (Following  him)     Good-bye,  Holger. 

HOLGER.  Good-bye !  (  STEEN  goes  out  and  shuts 
the  door.  There  is  a  moment's  pause  while  HOLGER 
stands  staring  at  the  closed,  door,  then  he  suddenly 
runs  toward  it)  Oh,  wait,  wait  for  me,  Uncle,  I 
will  go !  (He  opens  the  door,  starts  to  go  through  it, 
then  stops,  turns  and  looks  at  the  Woman,  is  drawn 
slowly  backward  by  his  gaze  and  comes  in  closing 
the  door)  No! 

W'OMAN.     (Moaning)    The  path — is  so — steep! 

HOLGER.  (Goes  to  her  and  bends  over  her) 
Didst  thou  speak,  dame?  (The  WOMAN  does  not 
answer)  Thou  art  like  Grandmother,  and  I  know 
what  Mother  would  do  for  her!  (Feeling  her 
hands)  Art  warmer,  dame? — still  cold!— The 
covers  aren't  very  thick.  (He  looks  about  the  bare 


16  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

room,  sees  the  old  shawl  hanging  from  the  peg  near 
the  fire,  takes  it  down  and  spreads  it  over  the 
woman)  Thou  must  get  warm!  (Goes  to  the  fire 
and  builds  it  higher) 

WOMAN.  (Still  wandering  in  her  mind)  Berries, 
— yes,  find  berries. 

HOLGER.  Oh,  thou  art  hungry!  (He  turns  to 
the  shelf,  takes  his  own  untasted  bowl  of  porridge, 
brings  it  to  her)  Dame,  here  is  food! 

WOMAN.  (Rousing)  Food,  give  it  to  me,  child, 
I  am  dying  for  food! 

( HOLGER  gives  her  the  porridge  and  sits  down  on 
the  floor  beside  her.) 

HOLGER.  (Watching  her  as  she  devours  the 
porridge)  Ah,  poor  soul! — Why,  thou  wert  starv 
ing  ! — Na,  just  see ! — Mother  says  that's  what  makes 
my  little  brother  so  round  and  rosy,  because  he  eats 
so  much  porridge, — you  like  it,  don't  you  ? 

WOMAN.  It  is  life  itself !  (Her  voice  has  grown 
young  and  strong.  Sinks  back  again  as  she  has 
eaten  it  all)  Bless  thee,  Child ! 

(  HOLGER  sets  the  empty  dish  aside  on  the  hearth 
and  turns  to  feel  her  hands.) 

HOLGER.    Oh,  thou  art  warm ! 

WOMAN.  Aye,  warm!  (In  a  voice  increasingly 
rich  and  sweet.  At  this  moment  there  comes  the 
distant  sound  of  organ  music.  HOLGER  straightens 
suddenly  in  a  listening  attitude)  Listen, — is  that 
music  ? 

HOLGER.  From  the  Cathedral !— Aye,  it  must  be, 
— last  summer  we  could  hear  it  plain,  and  now  with 
so  many  thousands  there!  (Leaves  the  woman  and 
stands  in  the  center  of  the  room  listening  atten 
tively)  It's  beginning! — (Pause)  Everyone  is 
there! 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  17 

WOMAN.     Why  are  they  there. 

HOLGER.  It's  the  great  service!  (He  goes  to 
ward  the  window  and  stands  looking  out.  He  talks 
on  half  to  her,  half  to  himself)  All  the  world  is 
there,  the  village  folk,  and  strangers  from  afar, 
great  court  folk,  too, — aye,  and  the  King, — pur 
King!  And  He  will  give  a  gift, — a  King's  gift! 
(She  rises  erectly  and  follows  him  across  the  room. 
There  is  the  strength  and  poise  of  youth  in  her  walk. 
The  heavy  black  hood  has  fallen  back  revealing  a 
head  covering  of  white  linen  that  suggests  a  sister  of 
Charity  and  gives  her  face  a  look  of  austerity  and 
sweetness.  She  is  strong,  maternal,  beautiful.  In- 
tuitively,  HOLGER,  in  his  disappointment  begins  to 
lean  upon  her  sympathy.  The  music  grows  a  little 
louder  and  floats  into  the  room)  Look,  dame,  you 
can  even  see  the  windows  gleam!  It  is  so  near! 
It's  all  beginning  and — I — am  not  there!  (A  sob 
creeps  into  his  voice) 

WOMAN.    Son ! 

HOLGER.  Aye,  dame?  (He  turns  and  comes  to 
ward  her,  she  seats  herself  on  the  stool  near  the 
window,  reaches  out  a  hand  and  draws  him  down 
beside  her) 

WOMAN.  Thou,  too,  wouldst  go?  (HOLGER,  too 
moved  by  her  sympathy  to  speak,  nods  silently  and 
puts  up  a  hand  to  hide  the  trembling  of  his  lips.  She 
slips  her  hand  to  his  shoulder)  Another  time  thou'll 
go! 

HOLGER.  (Fighting  back  his  tears)  It'll  never 
be  the  same  again!  To-night  the  Christ  comes. 
Bertel  said—"  The  Christ !  " 

WOMAN.  Nay,  son,  pray  to  the  Christ-child,  pray 
that  He  does  not  pass  thee  by !  (She  sits  facing  the 
back  wall  of  the  hut.  HOLGER  kneels  before  her,  and 
drops  his  head  in  her  lap.  She  lays  her  hand  gently 
upon  his  hair  and  makes  the  sign  of  the  cross  above 
him) 


i8  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

(As  they  have  been  talking  together,  the  fire  on  the 
hearth  has  burned  itself  out  and  the  shadows  in 
the  room  have  crept  forward  and  closed  around 
them  till  only  a  faint  outline  of  HOLGER  and  the 
WOMAN  can  be  distinguished  in  the  glimmer  of 
moonlight  shining  through  the  zvindow  nearby. 
There  is  a  long  pause  broken  only  by  the  boy's 
sobbing  which  gradually  sinks  to  silence.  As  he 
prays,  a  faint  light  begins  to  grow  behind  him. 
The  smoke-grimed  back  wall  of  the  hut  has 
vanished  and  in  its  place  appears  a  vision  of  the 
cathedral  chancel. — One  by  one  objects  emerge 
from  the  darkness.  The  light  touches  the 
golden  altar,  the  gleaming  appointments  upon  it, 
the  jewel-like  tones  of  the  stained  glass  ivindow 
above,  and  the  rich  carpet  under  foot;  it  shows 
the  marble  arches  at  the  sides  and  shines  softly 
on  the  robe  of  the  kneeling  PRIEST.  As  the  dim 
vision  grows  to  clearness,  so  the  music  comes 
nearer  and  swells  forth  softly  into  the  Christ 
mas  processional.  Unconscious  of  it  all 
HOLGER  looks  up  at  the  WOMAN,  his  face  sivept 
with  despair.) 

HOLGER.  Oh,  it's  no  use!  I'd  rather  be  all  blind 
and  never  see  than  miss  the  vision  that*  the  Christ 
will  send! 

WOMAN.  (Gazing  at  the  vision)  Look,  look 
what  comes ! 

HOLGER.  (Staring  at  the  woman's  face  illumin 
ated  by  the  light  from  the  chancel)  Dame!  (He 
turns  to  see  where  the  light  comes  from  and  the 
vision  meets  his  eye)  Oh-h-h-h!  (He  crouches 
back  at  the  WOMAN'S  feet,  held  spell-bound  by  the 
sight.  As  the  music  changes  the  PRIEST  rises  slowly 
to  his  feet,  faces  the  congregation  and  makes  a 
gesture  of  approach.  The  'voices  of  the  choir  join 
the  music,  and  from  the  left  side  of  the  chancelt 
people  begin  to  enter  carrying  their  gifts} 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  19 

(An  imperious  looking  man,  richly  dressed  In  black 
and  gold  comes  first,  bearing  a  heavy  box.  He 
approaches  the  altar,  kneels  and  puts  the  chest 
in  the  PRIEST'S  hands,  and,  that  the  full  value 
of  his  gift  may  be  publicly  recognised,  he 
throws  back  the  lid,  heaping  up  the  gold  coin 
with  which  the  box  is  filled.  The  PRIEST  turns, 
goes  up  the  steps  to  the  altar  and  raises  the 
chest  as  high  as  its  weight  will  permit.  The 
man  still  kneeling  awaits  the  chimes  with  superb 
self  confidence.  The  bells  do  not  ring.  Slowly 
the  PRIEST  lowers  the  gold  to  the  altar,  turns, 
raises  his  hand  in  blessing  and  dismissal.  The 
rich  man  rises,  looking  bewildered  at  his  failure, 
crosses  to  the  right  and  stands  near  the  altar  as 
the  pageant  moves  on.) 

(The  PRIEST  turns  to  the  next  comer,  A  COURTIER 
brave  in  green  and  gold,  who  enters  with  an  air 
of  great  elegance,  bearing  daintily  a  gilded  jewel 
casket.  He  kneels,  lays  it  in  the  PRIEST'S 
hands.  The  latter  turns  to  go  but  the 
COURTIER  detains  him  a  second,  raises  the  lid 
of  the  box  and  holds  up  string  after  string  of 
rich  gems.  The  PRIEST  carries  the  jewels  to 
the  altar  and  offers  them.  The  bells  do  not 
ring.  The  PRIEST  dismisses  the  COURTIER, 
and  the  young  man  rises,  turns  back  with  as 
sumed  lightness  of  manner  and  stands  at  the 
left  of  the  chancel,  watching  with  great  in- 
t  ere  st.) 

(A  beautiful  WOMAN  clad  in  flame  colored  velvet 
sweeps  proudly  up  to  the  steps  of  the  altar, 
kneels,  takes  from  her  neck  a  long  strand  of 
pearls  and  offers  it  to  the  PRIEST.  The 
PRIEST  receives  the  necklace,  ascends  to  the 
altar  and  offers  the  jewels.  The  woman  smil 
ing  listens  tensely  for  the  chimes.  They  do 


20  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

not  ring.  The  smile  fades  as  the  PRIEST  turns 
and  blesses  her.  She  rises  trying  to  hide  her 
chagrin  in  a  look  of  great  hauteur,  crosses  to 
the  right  and  stands  near  the  man  in  black  and 
gold  with  whom  she  exchanges  disdainful 
smiles  over  the  next  arrival.) 

(An  old  white  haired  man  clad  in  a  scholar's  robes 
totters  on,  bearing  with  difficulty  a  large 
vellum  bound  book.  The  PRIEST  takes  a  step 
forward  to  relieve  the  Old  Man  of  his  burden, 
and  as  he  goes  up  the  altar  steps  the  Sage 
sinks  exhausted  to  his  knees,  listening  with 
straining  senses  for  the  bells. — They  do  not 
ring.  The  PRIEST  blesses  the  old  man  and 
helps  him  to  rise.  He  turns  back  and  stands' 
near  the  COURTIER  at  the  left.) 

(A  lovely  young  girl  enters,  dressed  in  pale  green 
satin,  her  arms  filled  with  a  sheaf  of  white 
lilies.  The  very  way  she  carries  them  and 
bends  her  head  to  catch  their  fragrance  shows 
that  to  her  they  are  the  most  beautiful  things 
in  the  world.  Kneeling  she  gives  them  into 
the  hands  of  the  PRIESTJ  and  as  he  offers  them, 
she  listens  with  childish  confidence  for  the 
ringing  of  the  bells. — Still  there  is  no  sound 
save  the  organ  music  and  the  singing  of  the 
choir,  subdued  almost  to  a  breath  as  the  gifts 
are  offered.  Abashed  as  the  PRIEST  blesses 
and  dismisses  her,  the  young  girl  steps  back 
and  stands  near  the  old  Sage.) 

(There  is  a  stir  in  the  chancel,  even  the  PRIEST 
turning  to  watch.  The  KING  enters.  He  is  a 
man  of  forty  with  tall  distinguished  figure  and 
a  proud  face.  His  purple  robes,  richly  jeweled, 
trail  far  behind  him  and  on  his  head  he  wears 
his  crown.  Everyone  leans  forward  watching 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  21 

with  the  greatest  tension.  The  KING,  exalted 
with  his  mood  of  self  sacrifice  kneels,  removes 
his  crown  and  lays  it  in  the  hands  of  the 
PRIEST.  HOLGER  crouching  in  the  shadow 
quivers  with  anticipation.  Again  the  pan 
tomime  of  hope  and  failure.  The  PRIEST  turns 
back  to  the  KING  and  raises  his  arm  in  the 
customary  gesture.  The  KING  starts  to  rise 
then  suddenly  as  though  overcome  at  this 
spiritual  defeat  sinks  again  to  his  knees  before 
the  altar  and  buries  his  face  in  his  hands,  pray 
ing.  The  PRIEST  stands  with  arms  crossed 
upon  his  breast,  regarding  him  sorrowfully.) 

HOLGER.  (Overwhelmed  with  disappointment, 
softly  to  the  woman)  Perhaps  there  are  no  chimes, 
perhaps  the  Christ  hears  us  not! 

WOMAN.    Have  faith, — have  faith  in  God. 

HOLGER.  I  would  that  I  could  give  my  pennies 
to  the  Child. 

(The  KING  rises  from  his  prayer  and  goes  sadly  to 
the  right,  standing  near  the  lady  in  red.) 

WOMAN.  (In  a  low  ringing  voice  that  thrills  like 
the  call  of  a  trumpet)  Go  up,  my  son, — fear  not. — 
The  Christ-Child  waits  for  all! 

( HOLGER  breathless  with  the  adventure  rises  and 
goes  timidly  forward  out  of  the  gloom  of  the 
hut  into  the  splendor  of  the  chancel,  looking 
very  small  and  poorly  dressed  beside  all  the 
great  ones.  He  holds  out  his  pennies  to  the 
PRIEST  who  bends  and  takes  them  with  a  tender 
little  smile,  and  HOLGER,  crossing  himself,  too 
abashed  to  stand  and  wait,  shrinks  back  into 
the  darkness  and  the  sheltering  arms  of  the 
Woman.) 


22  WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG. 

(The  PRIEST  goes  up  the  steps  of  the  altar  and  hold* 
the  pennies  high  above  his  head  in  consecrating 
gesture,  and  as  he  does  so,  the  organ  music 
breaks  off  with  an  amazed  suddenness  for- 
•from  above  there  comes  the  far  triumphant 
ringing  of  the  chimes,  mingled  with  ethereal 
voices  singing  The  Alleluia.) 

(A  wave  of  awe  sweeps  over  everyone  in  the 
chancel  and  as  the  PRIEST  wheels  and  gestures 
them  to  their  knees,  they  prostrate  themselves 
quickly.  HOLGER,  too,  kneels  awe-struck  but 
the  woman  rises  to  her  full  height  and  stands 
watching.  From  this  time  on,  she  withdraws 
gradually  into  the  deeper  shadows  of  the  hut 
and  is  seen  no  more. ) 

(As  they  all  kneel  the  Angel  enters  from  the  right, 
ascends  the  steps  of  the  altar  and  stands  beside 
the  huddled  figure  of  the  PRIEST.  As  she 
stands  there,  a  single  pencil  of  light  shines  down 
upon  her  from  above,  a  ray  of  light  so  brilliant 
that  everything  around  seems  dull  in  compari- 
sion,  and  while  she  gives  her  message,  the  light 
above  grows  till  it  floods  her  hair  and  garments 
with  a  miraculous  radiance.  The  ANGEL  smiles 
at  HOLGER  and  chants  in  a  lovely  voice.) 

ANGEL.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  it  is  not 
gold  nor  silver  nor  rich  pearls  but  love  and  self- 
sacrifice  that  please  the  Lord.  The  Christ-Child 
was  hungered  and  you  gave  him  meat, — a  stranger 
and  you  took  Him  in. 

HOLGER.  (In  an  awed  tone)  But  I — I  have  not 
seen  the  Christ-Child. 

ANGEL.  Inasmuch  as  you  have  done  it  unto  one 
of  the  least  of  these  His  Brethern,  you  have  done  it 
unto  Him !  (The  ANGEL  stands  with  one  hand  up 
lift  edf  as  the  music  rises  in  a  great  crescendo  of 


WHY  THE  CHIMES  RANG.  23 

triumph.  HOLGER,  quite  overcome,  drops  his  face 
in  his  hands  and  as  the  climax  of  the  singing  is 
reached,  the  whole  tableau  is  held  for  a  moment, 
then  blotted  out  in  darkness.) 

(  There  is  a  pause,  then  the  light  on  the  hearth  flares 
up  revealing  the  boy  alone,  still  on  his  knees, 
looking  up  bewildered  at  the  back  wall  of  the 
hut,  where  the  vision  had  been.  Swiftly  he 
rises  to  his  feet  and  turns  to  face  the  Woman.) 

HOLGER.  Dame, — dame ! — The  Chimes, — the  star 
— did  you  see?  (She  is  gone,  he  stares  about  him 
looking  for  her)  Gone!  Gone!  (The  music  still 
rings  softly)  But  the  Chimes!  (He  turns,  runs 
to  the  window,  and  flings  open  the  casement.  A 
soft  light,  half  moonlight,  half  something  more 
luminous  pours  in  upon  him.  He  speaks  in  a  tone 
of  infinite  happiness,  looking  upward)  The  stars! 
— God's  Chimes! 

THE   CURTAIN  FALLS  SLOWLY. 


THE  APPENDIX 


APPENDIX 


27 


si 

•2*® 


i: 


28 


APPENDIX 


II 


•si 

11 


APPENDIX.  29 


The  accompanying  scenery  plates  are  not  intended 
to  be  f ollC'A  id  i.n  all  their  elaborate  detail  but 
merely  to  give  an  idea  of  the  effect  to  be  worked 
toward  in  planning  the  scenery. 


APPENDIX. 

The  following  suggestions  for  a  simplified  stag 
ing  of  "  Why  The  Chimes  Rang  "  are  offered,  not 
to  college  dramatic  societies  or  other  expert 
amateurs  but  to  the  many  young  people  in  the 
secondary  schools,  Sunday  schools  and  country  dis 
tricts,  who  would  enjoy  staging  short  plays  if  it 
could  be  done  without  elaborate  scenery  or  light 
ing  equipment  and  without  previous  experience  in 
stage  management. 

Simplicity  aided  by  imagination  goes  far  upon 
the  stage,  and  it  should  always  be  remembered  that 
the  real  aim  is  the  creation  of  a  given  emotion  in 
the  minds  of  the  audience  rather  than  the  creation 
of  a  given  thing  upon  the  stage.  If  a  circle  of  gilt 
paper  on  the  head  of  a  fine  looking  lad  can  create  a 
vivid  impression  of  kingly  dignity,  all  the  crown 
jewels  of  Europe  cannot  better  the  paper  for  stage 
purposes. 

In  producing  a  play,  it  should  first  be  carefully 
read  to  see  what  main  impression  is  to  be  conveyed, 
and  what  chief  elements  are  to  be  emphasized  to 
make  up  this  impression.  The  details  can  then  be 
worked  out  in  harmony  with  the  more  important 
factors. 

In  "  Why  The  Chimes  Rang,"  religious  exalta 
tion  is  the  mood  to  be  created,  and  the  divine  beauty 
of  charity  is  the  main  theme. 

Three  sharply  contrasted  effects  are  called  for: 
the  wood-chopper's  hut,  dark  and  humble ;  and,  set 
against  this,  the  earthly  splendor  of  the  cathedral 
chancel,  which  in  its  turn  is  dimmed  by  the  miracul 
ous  presence  of  the  angel. 

It  is  expected  that  this  play  will  be  adapted,  by 
31 


32  APPENDIX. 

those  giving  it,  to  the  farm  and  degree  of  ritual 
desired.  Censers  and  candles  may  be  used  or  not, 
altar  appointments  and  priestly  vestments  m'ay  be 
chosen  to  suit  the  taste  of  those  concerned.  Indeed, 
in  all  respects,  a  play  must  be  suited  to  the  condi 
tions  under  which  it  is  presented  and  the  audience 
before  whom  it  is  given ;  and  while  the  text  may  not 
be  altered  or  added  to,  lines  may  be  omitted  if 
desired. 

The  information  here  given  has  been  gathered 
from  frequent  working  over  of  the  material  but  at 
best  it  can  only  help  in  a  general  way.  Any  one 
producing  a  play  must  work  out  his  own  problems 
in  detail.  One  of  the  things  that  makes  the  stag 
ing  of  play§.  such  fascinating  work  is  the  exercise 
it  affords  the  imagination  in  overcoming  obstacles. 


SCENERY 


SCENERY. 


W 

Z 
w 
o 

en 


l; 


1 

rt^ 

It 

Si 


SCENERY. 


For  the  sake  of  facing  the  most  difficult  form  of 
the  problem  of  amateur  staging,  let  us  suppose  that 
this  play  is  to  be  given  in  a  parlor  or  hall,  without 
platform,  without  proscenium  arch  or  curtains,  with 
the  walls,  floor  and  ceiling  of  such  material  and 
finish  that  no  nails  may  be  driven  into  them,  and 
that  the  depth  of  the  stage  is  only  nine  feet.  It 
looks  hopeless  but  it  can  be  done. 

Under  such  conditions  the  only  possible  form  of 
scenery  is  the  screen.  If  the  "  scenery-man  "  is  a 
bit  of  a  carpenter,  he  can  build  the  screens  himself, 
making  them  as  strong  and  as  light  as  possible,  with 
four  leaves  a  few  inches  shorter  than  the  height  of 
the  room  in  which  they  are  to  be  used,  and  propor 
tionately  wide. — The  framework  should  be  braced 
by  cross  pieces  in  the  middle  of  each  leaf,  and 
should  have  stout  leather  handles  nailed  to  them 
for  convenience  in  lifting  the  screen.  The  right 
side  should  be  covered  with  canvas  such  as  is  used 
for  scenery,  and  the  screens  can  then  be  easily  re 
painted  or  recovered  for  later  plays. 

If  it  is  not  possible  to  have  the  screens  made  to 
order,  ordinary  Japanese  screens  may  be  borrowed 
or  rented,  and  made  to  serve  as  front  curtain,  and 
framework  for  scenery. 

Those  indicated  in  the  plan  as  A  A  and  B  B 
serve  as  the  front  curtains,  the  center  sections 
(marked  B  B)  being  drawn  aside  by  persons  sta 
tioned  behind  them  to  show  the  interior  of  the  hut 
when  the  play  begins.  The  four  screens  marked 

85 


36  SCENERY. 

C  D  and  E  E  form  the  walls  of  the  hut.  In  using 
screens  it  will  be  necessary  to  do  without  the 
window  and  the  actual  door  unless  the  person  in 
charge  of  the  scenery  is  clever  enough  to  paint  in  a 
window  on  one  panel  of  the  screen  and  make  a  door 
in  another.  If  not,  turn  the  end  panel  of  the  screen 
marked  C  to  run  at  right  angles  with  the  other  part, 
giving  the  impression  of  a  passage  with  an  imagined 
door  at  the  unseen  end,  and  wherever  in  the  busi 
ness  of  the  parts,  the  children  are  said  to  look  out 
of  the  window,  let  them  instead  look  down  this  pas 
sage,  as  though  they  were  looking  through  the  open 
doorway. 

On  the  right  side  of  the  room  in  the  screen 
marked  D,  a  hre-place  may  be  constructed  by  cutting 
away  a  portion  of  the  screen  to  suggest  the  line  of 
the  fire-place,  putting  back  of  this  opening  a  box 
painted  black  inside  to  represent  the  blackened 
chimney,  and  finishing  with  a  rough  mantel  stained 
brown  to  match  the  wall  tint.  Of  course  if  the 
screens  are  borrowed  the  fire-place  will  have  to  be 
dispensed  with. 

At  the  moment  when  the  vision  of  the  cathedral 
is  to  appear,  the  screens  marked  E  E  are  parted 
and  folded  back  disclosing  the  chancel.  Perhaps 
some  church  nearby  has  stored  in  its  basement  an 
old  stained  glass  window,  which  may  be  borrowed 
and  used  as  background  for  the  church  scene.  Such 
a  window  was  used  in  a  performance  of  "  Much 
Ado  About  Nothing  "  given  some  years  ago  at  one  of 
the  Eastern  colleges.  It  was  dimly  lit  from  behind 
by  electric  globes  and  proved  very  successful  in 
creating  a  churchly  atmosphere.  If  this  can  not  be 
done,  cover  two  of  the  tallest  possible  screens  with 
any  rich  sombre  colored  drapery  and  stand  them 
against  the  back  wall.  In  the  Los  Angeles  produc 
tion,  the  chancel  was  represented  by  a  curtain  of 
black  velvet,  flanked  by  two  silver  pillars,  between 
them  the  altar.  Black  makes  an  exceedingly  rich 


SCENERY.  37 

i 

and  effective  foil  for  bright  colored  costumes. 
Whatever  is  used  for  backing  in  the  chancel  can  be 
masked  if  unsatisfatory  by  Christmas  greens,  which 
should  be  arranged  in  long  vertical  lines  that  carry 
the  eye  up  as  high  as  possible  and  give  a  sense  of 
dignity,  or  in  the  Gothic  curves  suggestive  of  church 
architecture. 

Against  this  background,  and  in  the  center  of  the 
space,  place  the  altar.  This  can  be  made  of  a  pack 
ing  box  painted  gold  or  covered  with  suitable  hang 
ings.  In  one  performance  of  this  play  a  sectional 
bookcase  which  stood  in  the  room  was  hung  with 
purple  cheese  cloth  and  served  as  an  altar.  Should 
the  stage  space  be  deep  enough  broad  steps  before 
the  shrine  will  give  an  added  height  to  the  priest 
and  the  angel. 

If  it  is  possible  to  have  real  scenery  the  most 
illusive  method  of  revealing  and  hiding  the  chancel 
is  to  have  the  back  of  the  hut  painted  on  a  gauze 
drop,  which  is  backed  by  a  black  curtain.  At  the 
cue  for*  showing  the  chancel  the  lights  in  front  of 
the  gauze  go  out  leaving  the  stage  dark,  then  the 
black  opaque  curtain  is  rolled  up  or  drawn  aside  and 
as  the  light  is  slowly  turned  on  the  chancel,  the 
vision  begins  to  take  form  through  the  gauze,  the 
latter  becoming  invisible  and  transparent  when  there 
is  no  light  in  front  of  it.  The  gauze  prevents  Holger 
from  actually  placing  the  pennies  in  the  priest's 
hand  but  if  the  two  approach  the  gauze  as  though  it 
were  not  there,  and  stretch  out  their  hands  so  that 
they  seem  to  touch,  the  priest  being  provided  with 
additional  pennies  which  he  holds  up  at  the  altar, 
no  one  in  the  audience  would  guess  that  the  coins 
had  not  been  given  him  by  the  child. 

Very  few  halls  ostensibly  built  to  house  amateur 
play-giving  are  adequate  for  the  purpose. — Often 
the  stage  is  merely  a  shallow  platform  without  cur 
tains  to  separate  the  actors  from  the  audience,  and 
the  ceiling  and  walls  surrounding  the  stage  are  so 


38  SCENERY. 

finished  that  the  necessary  screws  for  hanging  cur 
tains,  may  not  be  driven  into  them.  The  amateur 
manager  reaches  the  depths  of  despair  when  he  finds 
that  even  the  floor  of  the  shallow  platform  offered 
him,  is  of  polished  hardwood  and  may  not  be  marred 
by  the  screws  of  stage  braces. 

Amateurs  who  have  any  voice  in  the  preparation 
of  the  stage  being  built  for  them,  should  urge  the 
following  specifications : 

1.  The  ceiling  of  the  stage  to  be  at  least  twice 
as  high  as  the  proscenium  arch. 

2.  The  depth  of  the  stage  to  be  at  least  fifteen 
feet,  deeper  if  the  size  of  the  place  permits. 

3.  The  flooring,  walls  and  ceiling  of  the  stage  to 
be  of  soft  wood,  into  which  nails  and  screws  may  be 
driven;  or  if  the  main  construction  is  of  brick,  con 
crete  or  metal,  some  inner  wooden  scaffolding  or 
other    overhead    rigging    capable    of    supporting 
scenery  should  be  provided. 

4.  There  should  be  some  space  on  both  sides  of  the 
stage  for  keeping  scenery  and  properties  to  be  used 
later  in  the  play,  and  as  a  waiting  place  for  actors 
temporarily  off  the  stage.     The  platform  forming 
the  stage  proper  should  be  continued  over  these 
wings  so  that  actors  leaving  the  scene  may  walk 
off  on  a  level  and  not  seem  to  plunge  cellarward  in 
making  their  exits. 


LIGHTING. 

The  important  thing  to  be  remembered  about  the 
lighting  is  the  crescendo  of  light  which  occurs  as  the 
play  runs  its  course.  First  the  dim  little  hut  so  lit 
by  the  firelight,  that  the  expressions  on  the  faces 
of  the  actors  can  just  be  seen  without  straining  the 
eyes  of  the  audience.  Then  the  rich  but  subdued 
lighting  of  the  chancel  and  finally  the  brilliant 
radiance  shining  on  the  angel. 

Experiments  with  electricity  should  not  be  at 
tempted  by  persons  who  do  not  understand  its  use, 
but  if  there  is  a  competent  electrician  in  the  group 
putting  on  the  play,  use  electric  lighting  by  all  means. 
No  other  form  of  light  is  so  easily  controlled  or 
begins  to  give  such  effects  for  stage  purposes. 

The  problems  of  theater  lighting  differ  with  each 
set  of  conditions  and  the  best  results  can  only  be 
obtained  by  actual  experiment  with  the  means  at 
hand.  Do  not  feel  that  because  you  are  an  amateur, 
working  with  limited  equipment,  real  beauty  is  be 
yond  you,  I  have  seen  a  stage  picture  approaching  a 
Rembrandt  in  its  charm  of  coloring  and  skilful  use 
of  shadows,  created  on  a  tiny  stage  with  few  ap 
pliances  by  an  amateur  who  understood  his  lights. 

If  electricity  is  to  be  had,  use  three  or  four  in 
candescent  globes  for  the  fire  on  the  hearth,  arrang 
ing  logs  of  wood  around  them  to  simulate  a  fire. 
Additional  lights  as  needed  can  be  placed  at  the  side 
off  stage,  or  in  the  footlights ;  or  better,  if  the  stage 
has  a  real  proscenium  these  supplementary  lights  can 
be  put  in  a  "  trough  "  that  protects  and  intensifies 
them  and  hung  overhead  in  the  center  against  ths 
back  of  the  proscenium  arch. 

As  all  these  lights  are  to  give  a  firelight  effect, 
90 


40  LIGHTING. 

the  incandescent  globes  should  be  dipped  in  a  rich 
amber  shade  of  coloring  medium  which  may  be 
bought  at  any  electrical  supply  house  for  sixty  cents 
per  half  pint.  If  gas  or  oil  is  used  a  firelight  effect 
can  be  obtained  by  slipping  amber  gelatine  screens 
in  front  of  the  lamps.  These  "  gelatines  "  are  about 
two  feet  square  and  cost  only  ten  cents  apiece. 

If  the  fire-place  cannot  be  made,  then  a  charcoal 
brazier  will  serve  as  an  excuse  for  light  and  give  a 
sense  of  warmth  to  the  scene.  The  brazier  can 
easily  be  made  by  any  tinsmith  from  a  piece  of  sheet 
iron  supported  on  three  legs,  and  there  is  an  illustra 
tion  of  it  in  the  right  hand  corner  of  the  accompany 
ing  scenery  plate. — An  electric  torch  or  even  an 
ordinary  lantern  can  be  slipped  inside  the  little  stove 
to  give  out  a  faint  glow.  A  piece  of  one  of  the 
amber  screens  put  over  the  torch  or  lantern  will 
warm  the  light  and  the  brazier  can  be  placed  any 
where  in  the  hut. 

The  chancel  may  be  lighted  by  a  number  of  in 
candescent  bulbs  hidden  at  the  sides  of  the  scene, 
with  the  light  so  shielded  that  it  shines  on  the  altar 
and  not  into  the  hut.  An  especially  effective  place 
to  put  a  strong  light  is  inside  the  box  representing 
the  altar,  with  a  hole  cut  in  the  top  of  the  box  so 
that  the  light  shines  up,  giving  a  central  radiance  to 
the  appointments  of  the  altar  and  throwing  into 
prominence  the  face  and  costume  of  each  person 
who  approaches  it.  If  any  of  this  light  seems  glar 
ing  it  can  be  softened  and  diffused  by  masking  it 
with  amber  or  straw  colored  cheesecloth. 

Some  form  of  search  light  is  practically  a  neces 
sity  for  producing  the  heavenly  radiance  ttrt  shines 
upon  the  angel.  If  procurable,  a  "  baby  spot  light " 
is  the  best  appliance,  but  lacking  this,  an  automobile 
lamp  and  its  battery  can  be  used. 

It  is  important  that  all  light  in  the  hut  should  go 
out  when  the  vision  of  the  chancel  appears  so  that 
the  hut  becomes  merely  an  inner  proscenium  or  dark 


LIGHTING.  41 

frame  around  the  rich  picture  of  the  altar.  This  of 
course  does  not  mean  that  the  lantern  in  the  brazier 
need  be  extinguished  as  the  light  given  by  that  is 
negligible. 

After  the  angel  ceases  speaking  the  tableau  of  the 
altar  scene  should  be  held  as-  the  music  grows  louder 
and  louder  through  the  final  crescendo ;  then,  when 
the  final  note  has  been  sung,  blot  out  the  stage  by 
extinguishing  all  lights.  Give  a  moment  of  darkness 
during  which  the  back  wall  of  the  hut  is  replaced, 
and  the  old  woman  slips  out  of  the  nearest  opening 
in  the  scenery.  Then  turn  on  the  front  lights  which 
illuminated  the  hut  during  the  first  part  of  the  play-. 


MUSIC. 

The  three  pieces  of  music  required  for  this  play 
are  as  follows : 

"  The  Sleep  of  the  Child  Jesus  M  part  song  for 
mixed  voices  by  F.  A.  Gevaert. 

Eightfold  Alleluia  composed  for  "Why  the 
Chimes  Rang  "  by  Percy  Lee  Atherton. 

These  two  pieces  come  published  together  in  a 
special  edition  for  use  with  this  play  by  The  Boston 
Music  Company.  (G.  Schirmer.)  Price  10  cents 
per  copy. 

The  middle  movement  (in  five  flats)  of  "  Sortie  " 
(Postlude)  by  J.  Guy  Ropartz.  Published  by  G. 
Schirmer.  Price  40  cents  a  copy  postpaid. 

For  all  the  music,  address  The  Boston  Music 
Company,  26  West  Street,  Boston. 

The  pieces  by  Ropartz  and  Gevaert  were  chosen 
for  the  Workshop  production  by  Dr.  A.  T.  Davison, 
organist  at  Appleton  Chapel,  Harvard  University, 
and  are  admirably  fitted  to  the  play.  Mr.  Atherton's 
Alleluia  is  also  just  what  is  needed,  both  in  length 
and  in  the  triumphant  crescendo  which  carries  the 
piece  fittingly  and  dramatically  to  its  close.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  replace  this  finale  except  by  other 
music  written  for  the  purpose. 

The  music  is  perhaps  the  most  important  single 
element  in  the  play.  In  the  original  version  the 
scene  in  the  chancel  was  carried  by  dialogue  but 
production  showed  the  mistake.  From  the  time  that 
the  music  begins,  it,  with  the  pantomimic  action  of 
the  actors  is  all  sufficient  to  interpret  the  mood  and 
meaning  of  the  scene. 

42 


MUSIC.  43 

A  small  parlor  organ  is  practically  a  necessity  and 
can  probably  be  procured  for  the  cost  of  the  cartage. 

A  choir  of  men's  and  women's  voices  is  best  for 
the  singing  but  a  good  quartette  will  serve. 

For  the  bells,  the  long  tubular  chimes  which  are 
suspended  by  one  end  and  struck  with  a  wooden 
hammer  are  the  most  satisfactory.  If  they  seem  too 
metallic,  try  covering  the  head  of  the  hammer  with 
folds  of  chamois  skin.  If  such  a  set  of  chimes  is 
not  to  be  had  a  substitute  can  be  found  in  the 
phonograph,  for  which  there  are  a  number  of  chimes 
records. — The  tune  played  on  the  phonograph  must 
not  be  a  modern  one ;  Luther's  Hymn  "  Great 
God,  what  do  I  see  and  hear?"  (A  Columbia 
record)  is  the  best.  The  tune  can  be  disguised  by 
lifting  the  needle  occasionally  and  setting  it  down 
gently  on  another  part  of  the  record.  As  far  as  I 
know,  no  phonograph  record  prerents  chimes  pure 
and  simple.  It  should  be  remembered  however  that 
the  phonograph  record  lacks  the  vitality  of  tone  and 
the  note  of  jubilant  triumph  which  a  good  musician 
can  bring  from  the  bells  themselves. 

With  the  exception  of  the  crescendo  at  the  end  of 
the  Alleluia,  the  music  is  kept  soft  and  dreamy 
throughout.  It  is  a  temptation  to  try  to  achieve  this 
effect  by  placing  singers  and  organ  back,  off  stage, 
so  that  the  sound  may  come  from  a  distance  but  it 
has  been  found  that  the  whole  performance  gains 
immeasurably  if  the  organist  is  in  front  where  he 
can  watch  every  movement  of  the  actors  and  in 
terpret  them  in  his  playing. 

The  music  begins,  on  Holger's  speech :  "  Oh  thou 
art  warm  "  and  continues  in  one  form  or  another 
throughout  the  play. — The  organist  commences  in 
the  middle  of  the  Ropartz  "  Sortie,"  at  the  top  of 
page  6  and  continues  this  until  the  back  of  the  hut 
is  withdrawn  when  he  drifts  into  the  accompani 
ment  of  the  Gevaert  song,  and  plays  it  through  once 
without  the  voices.  As  Holger  cries  "  Dame ! " — 


44  MUSIC 

and  sinks  back  against  the  woman's  knee,  this  verse 
should  end,  and  the  voices  of  the  choir  take  up  the 
song  with  the  organ. 

From  this  point  on  every  movement  in  the  chancel 
is  paced  to  the  rhythm  of  the  music.  It  has  been 
found  that  a  verse  of  the  Gevaert  song  is  just  long 
enough  to  fit  the  following  action. 

A  person  in  the  procession  enters  the  chancel, 
walks  to  the  center  before  the  altar,  kneels  and 
presents  his  gift  to  the  priest.  The  priest  accepts 
the  gift,  turns,  goes  up  the  steps  to  the  altar,  and 
raises  the  offering  high  above  his  head  holding  it 
there  a  moment  waiting  for  the  chimes  to  ring,  then 
brings  his  arms  down,  lays  the  gift  on  the  altar, 
turns  back  to  the  kneeling  figure,  and  raises  his 
hand  in  blessing.  The  person  then  rises,  and  steps 
back  to  his  appointed  place  to  the  left  or  right  of 
the  altar,  coming  to  a  standstill  just  as  the  music 
ends.  As  the  next  verse  begins,  the  next  person 
enters  the  chancel.  The  movements  should  be  made 
with  deliberation  and  dignity  and  so  thoroughly  re 
hearsed  that  keeping  time  to  the  music  becomes  in 
stinctive,  that  the  actor's  mind  may  be  on  the  ex 
pressing  of  the  emotions  of  assurances  that  his  gift 
will  ring  the  chimes,  and  later  disappointment  that 
the  chimes  do  not  ring. 

When  it  comes  Holger's  turn  to  offer  the  pennies, 
the  music  begins  again  as  with  the  others  and  ac 
companies  the  action  through  to  the  moment  when 
the  priest  holds  the  pennies  high  above  his  head, — 
here  the  organ  and  singing  break  off  abruptly,  the 
chimes  ring  out  and  keep  pealing  for  a  moment, 
without  other  music. 

On  the  first  note  of  the  chimes  the  priest  wheels 
swiftly  and  with  a  commanding  gesture  signals  the 
people  grouped  about  the  altar  to  their  knees.  He 
kneels  also.  The  organ  begins  again,  softly  play 
ing  the  final  Alleluia.  The  angel  enters  from  the 
right  side,  stands  on  the  step  of  the  altar,  the  central 


MUSIC.  45 

figure, — all  about  still  kneeling  awestruck.  As  the 
music  continues  the  angel  half  sings,  half  chants 
the  speeches,  and  underneath  her  voice,  which 
should  be  as  lovely  as  possible,  come  in  the  voices  of 
the  other  singers  very  softly  at  first,  like  an  echo 
from  afar.  As  the  angel's  voice  stops,  those  of  the 
other  singers  grow  into  the  great  triumphant 
crescendo  of  the  finale.  Do  not  be  afraid  of  hold 
ing  this  tableau  while  the  music  finishes. — Indeed 
none  of  the  chancel  scene  should  be  hurried.  Take 
it  with  great  deliberation  and  give  whatever  element 
is  holding  the  scene  at  the  moment,  (whether  the 
action  or  the  music)  plenty  of  time  to  make  its 
effect.  The  Alleluia  is  played  through  twice,  once 
softly  during  the  angel's  singing  the  second  time  in 
the  triumphant  clim'ax.  As  this  second  singing  ends, 
the  lights  on  the  chancel  are  blotted  out,  the  back 
wall  of  the  hut  is  replaced,  the  old1  woman  disap 
pears,  the  lights  in  the  hut  go  up  again  revealing 
Holger  standing  spellbound  staring  at  the  wall  where 
the  vision  had  been.  As  he  turns  to  speak  to  the 
woman  and  during  his  final  speeches,  the  organ  plays 
softly  as  though  from  a  great  distance  and  the 
chimes  ring  again  but  not  so  loudly  as  before.  This 
music  continues  till  the  front  screens  are  brought 
together  and  the  play  is  over. 


COSTUMES 


48 


COSTUMES. 


COSTUMES. 


49 


COSTUMES. 


COSTUMES. 

The  costumes  of  this  play  are  mediaeval,  pic 
turesque  and  easily  constructed. — The  accompany 
ing  plates  will  give  the  best  idea  of  their  general 
appearance.  The  amounts  of  goods  required  for 
each  are  noted  below. 

First  of  all,  in  planning  the  costuming  for  a  play 
a  definite  color  scheme  should  be  decided  on  with 
due  regard  for  the  scenery  against  which  the  colors 
are  to  stand  out  and  for  the  lights  which  will  greatly 
affect  all  values.  Here  is  an  opportunity  for  de 
lightful  study  and  the  exercise  of  the  highest  artistic 
ability.  Skilful  lighting/ and  a  well  chosen  back 
ground  will  make  cheesecloth  as  effective  as  cloth  of 
gold.  Taste  and  careful  experimentation  not  money 
secure  the  best  results. 

Family  ragbags  will  often  yield  excellent  material 
for  theatrical  costumes,  and  of  much  better  quality 
than  would  be  bought  new  for  the  purpose.  But  if 
the  stuff  is  to  be  purchased,  two  materials  will  be 
found  especially  suitable  and  inexpensive.  For  the 
peasants'  costumes  canton  flannel  is  recommended 
as  it  has  body  and  comes  in  beautiful  dark  reds, 
browns  and  other  shades  which  light  up  well.  For 
the  dresses  of  the  richer  group  in  the  chancel,  sateen 
is  best.  It,  too,  comes  in  lovely  colors  and  has  a 
very  rich  glossy  finish,  though  to  give  variety  an 
occasional  piece  of  cheap  velvet  or  upholstery 
brocade  is  very  effective.  For  trimming  these  richer 
garments,  bits  of  fur  or  passementerie  can  be  used, 
or  the  material  may  be  stencilled  or  even  painted 
freehand.  Large  gold  beads  sewed  on  in  a  simple 
design  gives  the  appearance  of  rich  embroidery,  as 

51 


52  COSTUMES. 

do  also  flowers  cut  out  of  chintz  and  carefully 
pasted  on. 

All  of  the  men's  jerkins  or  tunics  are  made  on 
the  simple  lines  of  a  man's  shirt,  opened  a  little  at 
the  neck  and  belted  in  at  the  waist. 

The  most  inexpensive  tights  for  amateurs  are 
well-fitting  cotton  underwear,  dyed  the  desired  color. 
The  children  and  Bertel  can  wear  their  own  plain 
soft  low-heeled  slippers.  The  rich  folk  in  the 
chancel  wear  their  own  slippers  and  draw  on  over 
them,  socks  dyed  to  match  the  tights;  these  socks 
if  rolled  down  at  the  top  make  a  very  passable 
substitute  for  the  Romeo  shoe  of  the  period  desired. 

The  following  notes  refer  to  the  costumes  of 
"  Why  the  Chimes  Rang  "  as  shown  in  the  plates, 
the  numbers  corresponding  to  those  given  the 
figures  therein.  The  estimates  of  the  amount  of 
goods  required  are  all  calculated  on  the  basis  of 
yard  wide  goods  for  an  adult  of  average  size,  ex 
cept  in  the  case  of  the  two  children,  the  costume 
of  the  older  being  planned  for  a  fourteen  year  old 
boy  that  of  the  younger  for  a  child  of  ten. 

1.  The  old  Woman:  underrobe,  cut  in  straight 
simple  lines,  gracefully  belted,  5%  yards,  cloak  and 
hood,  6  yards.     If  this  cloak  is  black  or  nearly  so 
it  will  help  to  conceal  her  entrance  and  exit,  as 
black  against  black  is  practically  invisible  on  the 
stage. 

2.  Bertel:  jerkin,  gaiters  and  cap  (all  of  same 
material),  3  yards;  shirt,  (under  jerkin)  2%  yards; 
cloak,  2^/2,  yards.     If  preferred  Bert  el's  jerkin  can 
be  made  with  sleeves  of  the  same  goods  instead  of 
the  white  shirt  showing  as  in  the  picture. 

3.  Holger:  jerkin  and  cap,  i%  yards;  cape,  2 
yards. 

4.  Steen:  jerkin  and  cap,   ii/j  yards;  cape,  2 
yards. 

It  may  be  easier  to  lengthen  the  skirts  of  the  boys' 
jerkins  almost  to  the  knee  and  let  them  wear  regular 


COSTUMES.  53 

stockings  and  bloomers  instead  of  tights.  If  long 
sleeves  are  preferred  for  them,  a  pair  of  stockings 
cut  off  at  the  ankle  are  easily  attached  at  the  arm 
hole  and  make  very  good  sleeves. 

5.  The  Angel:  outer  robe,  7  yards;  under  robe, 
5  yards. 

This  costume  is  best  made  of  creamy  cheese 
cloth  over  an  under  robe  of  the  same,  as  cheese 
cloth  is  faintly  luminous  in  an  intense  light.  It 
should  be  long  enough  to  lie  on  the  floor  two  or 
three  inches  all  round  as  a  trailing  effect  is  desirable. 

6.  Rich  Woman :  dress,  6  yards. 

Her  head  dress  is  easily  made  of  stiff  white  paper 
rolled  up  in  cornucopia  shape  and  sewed  securely, 
over  this  a  long  white  veil  or  scarf  is  draped. 

7.  The  Rich  Man:  tunic,  2  yards;   shirt,  2% 
yards;  or  i%  yards  if  the  sleeves  and  neckpiece 
can  be  sewed  right  into  the  tunic,  doing  away  with 
the  under  garment.    If  the  costumes  are  to  have  re 
peated  wear,  it  will  be  better  to  have  the  shirts 
made  separate  and  of  a  washable  material,  they  can 
then  be  cleansed  more  frequently  than  will  be  neces 
sary  for  the  tunics.    The  Rich  Man's  chain  can  be 
made  of  the  heavy  brass  chain  that  comes  for  drap 
ing  back  curtains. 

8.  The   Priest:   under  robe,  4%  yards;   outer 
robe  6y2  yards.     This  costume  will  of  course  be 
greatly  modified  by  the  custom  of  the  church  of 
which  he  is  supposed  to  be  a  representative. 

9.  The  King:  tunic,  2  yards;  shirt,  2%  yards; 
robe  of  office,  4V2  yards.     The  King's  tunic  in  gen 
eral    cut    is   exactly   like  that   of   the   other  two 
courtiers  (nos.  7  and  12)  but  handsomer  in  material 
and  trimming.     The  robe  is  just  a  straight  piece 
that  hangs   from  the   shoulder  and  trails  on  the 
ground. 

10.  Sage :  robe,  6  yards. 

1 1.  Young  Girl :  dress,  6  yards. 

12.  Courtier:  tunic,  2  yards;  shirt,  2^  yards. 


PROPERTIES. 

The  following  list  gives  the  properties  needed  in 
the  play. — 
In  the  hut: 

1.  A  porridge  pot. 

2.  Three  small  bowls. 

3.  Three  spoons.    If  pewter  spoons  are  not  to  be 
had,  wooden  spoons  can  be  bought  cheaply. 

4.  Porridge.     Custard  or  Spanish  cream  looks 
like  porridge  and  is  more  easily  eaten  on  the  stage, 
but  hot  cream  of  wheat  is  also  palatable  if  sweetened 
and  the  steam  from  it  will  lend  a  touch  of  realism 
to  the  scene. — It  will  save  time  to  have  it  put  in  the 
three  small  bowls  before  the  rise  of  the  curtain,  and 
the  bowls  can  be  covered  with  three  little  plates  to 
keep  the  steam  in  till  the  food  is  wanted. 

5.  Two  roughly  made  but  substantial  stools,  one 
near  the  window,  the  other  before  the  fire.     Stools 
are  better  than  chairs  with  backs  because  they  do 
not  obstruct  the  view  of  the  audience  during  the 
chancel  scene. 

6.  Three  large  nails  or  wooden  pegs  in  the  walls 
strong  enough  to  hold  things,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  fire-place  and  one  near  the  door.    These  would 
be  impracticable  with  scenery  made  of  screens  as 
any  weight  on  the  screen  would  pull  it  over.     A. 
solid  wooden  chest,  as  a  carpenter's  tool  chest,  could 
be  substituted  to  hold  the  chldren's  wraps  and  the 
extra  shawl  for  the  old  woman.    The  chest  could  be 
placed  against  the  screen  on  the  left  or  right  as  con 
venient. 

7.  Steen's  cap  and  cape. 

8.  Holger's  cap  and  cape, 

54 


PROPERITIES.  55 

9.  The  extra  shawl  Holger  puts  around  the  old 
woman. 

10.  Two  bright  pennies  for  Holger 's  gift. 

11.  Logs  of  firewood  on  the  hearth.    Not  needed 
of  course  if  the  brazier  is  used  instead  of  the  fire 
place. 

In  the  chancel : 

12.  An  altar  cloth.    This  is  properly  a  piece  of 
fine  linen  edged  with  deep  real  lace.    It  should  not 
be  so  wide  as  to  cover  the  top  of  the  altar,  lest  it 
obscure  the  light  shining  up  through  the  hole.     It 
should  hang  down  in  front  of  the  altar  and  at  the 
sides  about  eighteen  inches.    A  very  handsome  look 
ing  lace  altar  cloth  can  be  cut  from  white  paper. 

13.  Candle-sticks; 

14.  Candles,  y 

15.  Two  censers:    Very  passable  censers  can  be 
made  by  swinging  brass  cups  on  the  brass  chains  that 
come  for  looping  back  curtains. 

16.  Incense. 

17.  Charcoal  to  burn  the  incense.  (This  comes  in 
the  box  with  the  incense.) 

1 8.  Matches  to  light  the  incense. 

19.  The  chimes  (or  the  phonograph  and  record.) 

20.  The  organ. 

Gifts  to  be  put  on  the  altar. 

21.  A  chest  full  of  gold  coins  for  the  rich  man. 
(This  chest  should  be  about  six  by  twelve  inches, 
made  of  some  polished  wood.     If  difficult  to  find, 
substitute  a  money-bag  of  stout  canvas  for  it.) 

22.  Gold  coin  for  the  rich  man.     These  coins 
may  be  made  of  cardboard  with  gold  paper  pasted 
over  them. 

23.  A  gilded  jewel  box  for  the  courtier  (this  can 
be  made  from  a  cardboard  box  covered  with  gold 
paper.) 

24.  Jewels  to  fill  the  gilded  box.     The  smaller 
things  that  come   for   Christmas  tree  decorations 
make  very  acceptable  stage  jewels. 


STAMPED  BELOW 


vellum  for  tne  sage 
to  give.  A  heavy  book  can  be  covered  with  wrap 
ping  paper  the  color  of  vellum. 

26.  A  pearl  necklace. 

27.  A  great  sheaf  of  fresh  lilies.    These  can  be 
made  at  home  of  tissue  paper  or  very  beautiful 
ones  can  be  bought  from  the  Dennison  Manufactur 
ing  Company. 

28.  A  golden  crown.    Made  of  cardboard  coated 
with  gold  paper  and  set  with  Christmas  tree  jewels. 
A  more  substantial  crown  can  be  made  of  thin  sheet 
brass  with  all  the  edges  turned  like  a  hem,  and 
trimmed  with  the  inexpensive  jewels  which  come 
for  brass  work. 


W4- 


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